Seventeen-year-old Gabriella Pierce is used to taking care of herself, but she’s about to become responsible for a whole lot more. When she gets a visit from three men claiming to be defenders of fantastical rings imbued with the powers of THE CARDINAL SINS, her life is changed irrevocably. Gabby is the steward of PRIDE To make matters worse, she’s falling hard for fellow steward, Grant Barnett, and he hates her guts. Now Gabby has to learn to protect Pride without letting her feelings for Grant get in the way.
“...it was thrilling enough to grab my attention and I can’t wait to continue Gabby’s story in the next installment. Rosie Somers has made it to my Author’s to watch for list!”
Excerpt Copyright © Rosie Somers Gabby
The man didn’t make a sound. He stood stock still for the span of
one sharp, inhaled breath, then he crumpled to the floor. After assuring
herself there was no one behind him, Gabby flipped her flashlight on
and knelt to give the unconscious heap at her feet her full attention.
Oh God, she’d killed him. She just knew it.
Save
for green streaks coursing through his thick, black hair, and a spot of
blood near his temple, there wasn’t any color on him. His clothes were
black, his skin winter-pale. Everything about his appearance was smooth,
lean, handsome—no feature out of place. Full lips, chiseled jaw, and
strikingly thick eyelashes. He was pretty, for a boy. It all fit, even
the green hair. And he was still breathing. She wasn’t a murderer.
Suddenly,
a strong hand gripped her forearm, and the heavy flashlight was ripped
from her grasp. Wrenching free from the iron grip, she tried to turn
around as she stood. Instead, she fell backward over Pretty Boy, landing
hard on her butt with her legs draped over his torso.
Gabby
scrambled to her feet. The moment she was steady, she broke into a run,
but only made it as far as the back door before arms like steel bands
wrapped around her from behind, pinning her to a rock-solid chest. She
couldn’t breathe.
“We’re not here to hurt you,
Gabriella,” a deep voice murmured into her ear. As if to prove the
honesty of his words, the man relaxed his hold just enough for her to
breathe normally.
“Yeah, right.”And her foster dad had only wanted to give her a kiss
goodnight—with his tongue. Gabby knew what men were like, and she was
not about to be fooled by this one. “How do you know my name?”
“It’s a long story, but we’ve been lookin’ for ya for some time now.” He had an Irish accent.
“Who are you?”
He
turned their bodies back toward the unconscious man across the room.
Now another guy stood over Pretty Boy. He wasseveral years older, thirty
maybe. His pale blond hair was short and, even from across the room, it
was clear he was much taller than her.
As Vice
Guy half-carried her to the other men, a muffled moan floated up to
meet them, and the guy on the floor took great care disentangling lanky
limbs to pull himself to a kneeling position. He rubbed the side of his
head with one hand while he used the other to brace himself against the
wall. The look Pretty Boy raked over Gabby as he got up made her cringe.
The
guy still holding her spoke. “If I let ya go, will ya promise not to
run? We’re not goin’ to hurt ya. We’re here because we need your help.”
She
believed him. Maybe because, even though she’d just clobbered his
friend, he hadn’t hurt her. She nodded and was immediately released.
She
turned, but the guy behind her wasn’t the giant with superhuman
strength she’d imagined. Her captor was probably only a couple of years
older than her, with dark auburn hair and a hint of a dimple on his
right cheek. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his bright blue
eyes sparkled with interest, and the corners of his lips were turned up
in an amused smile.
He didn’t take his gaze off
her, even when he took several steps away. Instead, he stood arms
crossed, feet planted apart. Poised to give chase if she fled. Running
had crossed her mind, but something compelled her to stay at least long
enough to hear what they had to say.
“Well …?” She prompted with a wave of her hand that clearly said, <em>get on with it</em>.
The
blond man cleared his throat. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m
Andrew. This is Lucas.” He motioned toward the man who’d grabbed her,
then to the one she’d knocked out. “And Grant.”
Grant’s eyes were narrowed. She shifted under his scrutiny and diverted her gaze.
Andrew whispered something in his ear, and Grant looked down at his feet. Andrew continued, “We need to go.”
They
were there to abduct her<em>. </em>At the realization,
panic rose in Gabby’s chest, choking her breath into shallow threads.
She threw her hands up defensively and backed away with slow, shaky
steps. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Andrew sighed. “You may not want to now, but you will when you find out why.”
“Then tell me.”
He checked his watch, then squared his shoulders in determination. “Have you ever heard of the seven deadly sins?”
Gabby snorted. “Who hasn’t?”
“I
assume you don’t realize how serious they are. We’ve spent our lives
protecting humanity from the temptations and you laugh at the mention of
them?” Grant’s voice was deep and forceful.
He
looked as though he would have continued scolding her, but Lucas
uttered a soft “Dude” and shook his head. Grant snapped his mouth shut
and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.
Lucas picked up where Andrew left off. “Do ya know much abou’ the history of the sins?”
She’d only ever heard an Irish brogue on TV. His lilting tone was soothing.
He raised an eyebrow.
Oh, he’d asked a question. What was it? Ah yes, history of the sins<em>.</em> Gabby shook her head.
“In
the latter half of the fourth century, a monk fled Constantinople to a
small monastery in Egypt. There, he penned a list of eight sins which he
referred to as the Temptations of Man: Pride, Avarice, Acedia,
Gluttony, Impurity, Anger, Sadness, and Vainglory.”
He
took a few steps back and leaned against the wall, then continued, “For
two centuries, almost all of those not involved with that particular
monastery thought the list of Temptations was nothing more than the
opinion of one monk, a suggestion of how to lead a good Christian life.
Then, sometime around five-ninety A.D., Pope Gregory the First came
across a collection of rings tha’ had been housed by this monastic order
in utter secrecy. They considered them so powerful only the handler was
permitted near them, just one specific monk who devoted his life to
ensurin’ no one else came into contact with the Temptations.”
“Listen
guys, much as I appreciate the history lesson, I’ve got work in …”she
made a show of checking her non-existent watch, “a few hours, so I
really hope you’re getting to a point.” This earned her a leveling glare
from Grant.
“Pope Gregory had the rings
studied and discovered they were in fact imbued with special properties.
It seemed they had the power to influence people toward certain … well …
temptations,” Andrew replied.
What asylum had
these guys broken out of? Did they actually believe this nonsense they
were spouting? “Seriously, jewelry that makes people sin? Right.” Gabby moved to her bag and gathered her
clothing, making sure to keep the men in her line of sight.
Lucas
reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain. He slipped it free of
his neck and dangled it from the tips of two fingers. Swinging like a
pendulum at the bottom of that chain was a brilliant, red ring.
“What is that?” She already knew the answer.
Lucas
took several slow steps in her direction and extended his arm toward
her. She clenched her fists and bit down on her tongue to keep from
yelling at the men. How dare they sneak into her makeshift home,
intruding into her life, practically scaring her to death. Now, they
were feeding her this absurd story about sin-possessed rings and crazy
monks.
The closer he got, her anger went from
muted seething to barely-contained rage. The more she thought about it,
the more she wished she was still in possession of her Maglite so she
could hit him with it, and maybe again after that. When Lucas was little
more than five feet from her, he winked and reversed direction. With
each step he took away from her, the violent feelings receded.
“Anger,” Gabby answered her own question.
“Anger,” Andrew affirmed. “Lucas is the steward. I’m the steward of Pride, Grant of Envy.”
Grant’s
eyes narrowed at her, while Andrew pulled a matching chain from beneath
his own T-shirt and let the attached orange ring fall to rest against
his chest. Something about Andrew’s ring was different though. Sure,
power emanated from it, too, but she wasn’t experiencing pride. This
power was different. It tingled—almost like static electricity.
After
slipping the chain back over his head and tucking it under his
neckline, Lucas picked up his story from where he’d left off. “Each of
the rings has the ability to influence people toward a particular sin.
Pope Gregory discovered which ones led to which temptation and labeled
them accordingly. As a result, the original list of temptations was
amended. It came to be known as the seven deadly sins.”
That was why the list Lucas spouted earlier didn’t sound right.
“The
rings didn’t create the sins, of course. They just have the power to
promote that particular feeling or action. Each sin has two rings and
two custodians.” Lucas was matter-of-fact.
“What, like a janitor?”
He
shook his head, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge her interruption. “The
stewards are bound to their particular ring, can sense it, can control
its influence over others.”
“How come I’ve never heard of these … stewards?”
“We
exist in secret. If the world knew about us and the sins, all hell
would break loose. We are not equipped to deal with that,” Grant
answered in a tone that clearly said she should already know the answer.
“I still don’t understand what any of this has to do with me.” Were they ever going to get to the point?
Lucas took a tentative step toward her. “You’re the other steward of Pride, Gabriella.”
Author Rosie Somers Rosie Somers is a YA author who lives in Florida, soaking up the year round sunshine. She can often be found in her favourite spot on her favourite beach, nose-deep in a good book.
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